Kevin, as director of programs, is responsible for admissions into the undergraduate and graduate programs in his college.  In a recent conversation, he pointed out that registrations into one of the graduate programs was down almost 40%.  If, he pointed out, he was unable to substantially increase admissions in the next several months, his college would suffer a substantial loss in revenue and potential damage to its reputation.

When asked what happened, he indicated that the marketing campaign that had been planned was never fully or completely launched because the college’s communications director was, as he said “doing other things.”  I asked if he talked with the Dean about this, and Kevin said “Yes, I met with him on a couple of occasions and explained the situation and that if we didn’t get the marketing we needed, admissions would suffer.”

“Ok,” I asked, “but did you make a specific request of the Dean to have the communication director implement the marketing plan immediately?”

“No, the Dean knows this program is a priority, so I would expect him to put in the correction,” was Kevin’s reply.

“Well, has he put in the correction?’

“Not that I can tell,” Kevin replied dejectedly.

It is easy to blame the communication director and the dean for the current admission situation.  However, doing so ignores that one or more of the four conversations were missing.  Kevin appeared to rely on conversations for understanding to get the dean to take action, but never specifically asked for what he wanted done, when, or why though a performance conversation.  This is exactly the situation depicted in this Dilbert cartoon.

Further, even if we assume Kevin made a request, that he can’t tell if the dean has acted indicates a missing closure conversation in which he follows up with the dean.  It could be that the dean is willing to take a “hit” on admissions in order to achieve some other goal, but Kevin won’t know unless and until he has a closure conversation to get the current situation complete.

The results we get are a product of the conversations we have.  When we don’t get what we want or expect, the first place to look is at our conversations to see what is missing.

Professor Ford,

I had to write to you and let you know I had the most incredible closure conversation today.  Yesterday, I found out that apparently, our dog is on the “restricted dog breed” list for our apartment complex.  I was given two options; get rid of the dog in 2 weeks, or move out by January 1st, and pay an additional $1,500 in lease buyout fees (our lease didn’t expire until June).

I decided I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I went this morning to talk with the property manager.  I asked if she had some time to speak with me, which she did, and then I told her I had just a couple of questions for her first, and then I wanted to say a couple of things regarding the current situation. I acknowledged the issue, appreciated that she was simply abiding by the rules and regulations set forth by corporate, and apologized for my fault in the matter; not letting the office know when we got the dog, and failing to pay the fees that come as part of owning a pet on the premises.  I offered to amend it, if I could; paying back fees due to the complex, even offering to pay a penalty, if they saw fit, for my negligence.  I told her my request was to stay until the end of our lease in June, and keep the dog.  The manager was very receptive to me, and promised to do what she could; she would state my case to coporate, but couldn’t promise me anything, as cases like mine in recent history had ultimately been forced to get rid of their pet or move.

I received a phone call an hour and a half later.  Corporate agreed to let us stay until June, with the dog, pending no complaints from any of our neighbors.  They gave us until June 30th to pay the back fees due as a result of having the dog since December of 2009.

I have always thought I understood closure conversations in theory; to actually have one, to put the elements into conscious practice…I understand it could have gone either way, but I do believe this conversation saved our dog and our home.

Thank you for teaching me something that is more than just an interesting concept. Have a great weekend

Jen

Pretty cool huh?

Kouzes and Posner, in their book The Leadership Challenge, contend that credibility is the foundation of leadership.  According to them, credibility is a result of doing what you said you would do when you said you would do it.  But this definition creates a problem for anyone who is new to a situation and has no established history of doing what they said they would do when they said they would do it.  What am I suppose to do if I don’t have any credibility with you and yet I need at least some in order for you to listen to what I have to say?

One way to obtain some immediate credibility is to use a closure conversation in which I acknowledge what you already know – that I have no credibility. I could do this by saying something like, “I have something to tell you that you may not believe coming from me since I am new to the group and don’t have any credibility with you.  If I were you, I would probably be skeptical too and so I won’t take it personally if you doubt me. [Then proceed to deliver message.]”.

Making such a statement is both authentic (i.e., I am not pretending I have credibility) and courageous. How many people do you know are willing to admit they have no credibility to a group of people with whom they need credibility?  The result is that people will listen to you, at least for the moment.  Of course, you can only do this once, so you better be sure that what you say is easily and quickly verified.